Heron Lake Plateau count me in unnanounced.

*a creepy candyvan rolls sloooowly by*

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Grievous was a different wolf in warm weather. Quieter. Lethargic.

Less dangerous.

His paws felt heavier, and his jaw seemed consistently slack. Leaking. His formerly luscious coat now fell from him in thick clumps, and he would briefly clog the skies with each shake of his lean carriage, his hair billowing around him like a noxious cloud.

These things, cultivated by a proverbial feeling of stickiness, made him feel less superior by appearance alone; though his loping swagger certainly didn't betray it.

Following his nose, he traipsed upon the scene of two wolves; a pale ruffian, carved into his prime, and a young vagabond, just nearing the cusp of his. The subdued gatekeeper approached but kept his distance, establishing his presence without yet joining them. It was first for him to know if the air was right for three males— and it gave him to moment to gauge how best to collect them at his side.

His tail lifted and flagged slowly— a storm, yearning to approach.

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